


the ideological opposite of a catgirl

by yumy



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Author Is A Weeb, F/M, Kwami Swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumy/pseuds/yumy
Summary: marinette meets plagg. marinette is confused by plagg. marinette meets a man clad in a red polka-dotted bodysuit. marinette is confused by man clad in red polka-dotted bodysuit.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. like a melody in my head

**Author's Note:**

> i saw a prompt and my brain had zero ideas, so i thought "how nice would it be if i forced myself to write something anyway? bcz haha cats" and this is what happened. rating is not general audiences solely because of cussing.
> 
> based on this prompt that's the same as this fic's title: https://prokopetz.tumblr.com/post/622007562010820608/prompt-the-ideological-opposite-of-a-catgirl
> 
> trigger warning: there are mentions of food. skip from where i put the five asterisks to "Marinette heaved a sigh."
> 
> i did not proofread so if the chapter changes slightly multiple times after this is posted bcz i realized it was badly written... u didn't see shit

_I love you baby, and if it's quite alright I need you baby, to warm the lonely night-_

The little pink CD player blared out an old track she'd listened to a thousand times over. Humming under her breath to the familiar tune, Marinette sorted through the objects cluttering the top of her desk. _A blunt pencil, eraser bits, three cups of water, a loose needle –thank god she'd noticed that- with lilac thread through the eye, a little black box, a sketch of her next dress design, her favorite ring- wait. A little black box?_ She rubbed her forehead, a faint reminder of her mother's warning of pimples in the distant parts of her mind. She must have grabbed some of her parents' things. Damn. She'd have to start sleeping more often. 

Marinette made a mental note to give it to her maman later. For now, she had some chemistry homework to struggle through. And if a little bit of yelling or frustration tears got into the mix, well, no one had to know.

———

"Once your Chinese review is over, go upstairs and get started on your homework. What were you assigned today?"

"A bit of everything."

"Alright. Zai jian, Adrien."

He nodded at her in acknowledgement and she turned and strode away. He took a sip of water. He wrote the same word fourty times in a black pen that never seemed to run out of ink. He doodled flowers on his wrist. He wrote another word twenty times under the first. "This is so boring." He looked for shapes in the marble of his table.

Abruptly, he stood up and shoveled all his workbooks and materials into his bag. Fuck it. It was time to do something he truly enjoyed. Chemistry homework.

Adrien marched up the stairs and into his room, plopping into his chair before his desk, turning on his music as he did so. The calming sounds of 100 gecs filled the silence. _He needed his textbook, his pencil case, his laptop, this strange black box he had never seen before in his life-_

*****trigger warning: mentions of food

"Life isn't a little fun without random shit turning up in your bag, right?" he said into the emptiness of his room. _Maybe it was a confession. He seemed to be getting a lot of those lately and he was wondering whether he should accept one. But then again, it was always fun to split a box of chocolates with Nino and he was pretty sure that the chocolates would stop if started dating someone. Maybe he would accept if they had an endless supply of chocolates. Maybe._

_What if there was white chocolate covered strawberries with pretty designs in this one?_ he wondered. He opened the box hastily.

He blinked. If this was a confession, it was by far the weirdest one he'd received. What was he supposed to do with a pair of earrings when his ears weren't even pierced? And there was no note or anything alongside them. Nino must have pranked him. He'd have to ask tomorrow. Sighing, he close the box and shoved it back into his backpack. And to think, he'd gotten his hopes up for some sweets.

———

Marinette heaved a sigh. "This is hopeless." She looked around her room aimlessly, her eyes landing on the plants on her balcony. She grabbed at the old cups of water taking up residence on the corner of her desk they'd been shoved to. Her hand was apparently not designed with hand-eye coordination in mind. The mug knocked into the other two glasses on all of them fell onto her rug, bringing down a few objects (figurines, mostly) alongside them. "Shit, shit, shit."

She rescued everything off her floor before it got too wet. The black box from earlier had fallen on the ground, too, but it seemed to be perfectly dry. It had fallen right in the middle of it all, so it must have touched the water. _Oh gosh. This was incredible. It was like magic. Had she just found a waterproof container? Oh, this would be good for her projects. She could transport needle felt projects in it. She always hated wet felting. Maybe she could bring one to class and do it in front of Adrien and subtly show him just how capable she was. A subtle flex, if you will. But then again, her teachers worked so hard to prepare class that maybe that wouldn't go over well. During break then. Or lunch. Then he would notice that she was making cat shapes out of wool and think she was super cool. Or maybe the giant needle and general weirdness of it all would scare him away and then she would be isolated forever and never make any friends or get to adopt a frog named Waldo and then she would die alone on an island in the middle of the sea with hair down to her ankles because she had been away from civilization for too long and had never seen a pair of scissors the whole time. Oh, she was getting carried away. Since the container was such nice quality, it must be protecting something important._

Marinette flipped open the top of the container with a satisfying creak. A silver ring was nestled inside of it. _It looked a bit stupid, like the ring version of one of those heavy "athletic" watches that had way too many functions. If she hit a button it would probably glow in the dark._ Giggling to herself at the comparison, she examined the ring further. It seemed like a normal one, albeit one way too big for her ring size. Would it fit on any of her fingers? She popped it onto her thumb.

A high-pitched scream sounded through her room. It didn't stop. It seemed to be coming from a large black shape whizzing through her room doing cartwheels in midair. _Nice,_ Marinette thought absentmindedly.

"I'm free!!!" the little _thing_ seemed to be saying. She must have fallen asleep at her desk and was dreaming. "Free free free free free fre-!"

"Who are you?" Marinette tried. If she was dreaming, it may as well explain itself to her. This dream lacked the strange dream-quality of everything making sense despite nothing actually making sense. 

"-ee free free!"it cackled. "I only swim free!"

"Um... I like breaststroke better personally. Um."

The thing finally seemed to notice her, though it didn't stop moving. "So... you're like Nagisa then? Cool, cool! Blonds are awesome. Not that you're blonde. You would've been cooler if you were blonde. And Nagisa is the coolest. Other than Rin. I would let him come at me with a fly swatter."

"Huh?"

The thing stopped spinning for a second. It hovered in front of her face. It was cat-shaped and had green eyes. "So you're uncultured. I see."

"What are you?"

"Your own personal demon."

"WHAT?"

"LMFAO!" it shouted. It actually said the letters. Maybe it _was_ a demon. "I am jokes! I'm a kwami and I can turn you into a cat-themed superhero. And you get a super cool black bodysuit and a tail that doubles as a belt. You're welcome."

Marinette paused. _If she could remember this when she woke up, maybe the superhero outfit would give her some inspiration for a new outfit she'd been thinking about._ "So where's the suit?"

"Just say 'Plagg, claws out'!"

"Plagg, claws out!" Her room disappeared in a flash of lime green light. Her body started contorting _when had her back been able to bend like that?_ and through the shock she faintly heard something comparable to background music start up. It definitely wasn't Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. It ended with a flourish and she found herself striking an embarrassing pose. "What next?" She was met with silence. "Um... kwami?" 

———

He was finally done for the day. Maybe he would get caught up with some shows. The main one he'd been watching was boring him lately. He thought back to the earrings inside his bag. Or he could pierce his ears. His dad would lose his shit, but then again, would he even notice? Adrien looked around for a needle.

Coming up short, he thought of just using the earring posts themselves to pierce his ears. _That would work, right? Well. It would. And if it didn't.... he wasn't going to think about it._ He fished around in his bag until he came upon the black box again. He half hoped it would be a confession when he opened it. He could really use a few compliments right now. Unfortunately, the same little black studs were resting inside. And they were clip ons? Well, that changed things.

He looked at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. Tilted his head. Squinted a little. He would look cool with earrings. Yeah. Totally. Taking a breath, he clipped them on.

"What the _fuck_?" he shouted, barely registering the fact that his reflection did, in fact, look damn good with earrings. "Where did you come from?"

"Hi!" started the little red bug ( _was it a bug because that sure as hell wasn't a bird and it was floating it was flying it was-_ ) that had appeared before him.

"Oh god," he mumbled. "It talks. The bug talks. I've finally lost it."

"I go by Tikki." It frowned. "And I'm not a bug, though you could be. I'm a kwami and I use she/her."

"Right. Sorry. What the hell is a kwami? And what do you mean I could be a bug? Oh my god, are you an ancient magical being that's going to turn me into a bug for insulting you?"

"Huh? Don't be silly! I'm an ancient magical being that's going to turn you into a ladybug-themed superhero!"

"Oh." Adrien blinked. "Oh. Right. Of course."

"Just say 'Tikki, spots on', and you'll transform! And 'Tikki, spots off' for when you want to detransform, okay?"

"Yes. Right. Noted. Tikki, spots on!" He saw pink and- was that a theme song? And holy shit his body was mov- he was twirling?- holy SHIT whencouldhekickthathigh? "What the hell?"


	2. boots with the fur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> marinette is stuck in a catsuit. adrien gets stood up by the personification of a concept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so sorry for publishing chapters so far apart (im not rlly lol) but long story short, i can only work on this for maybe an hour during the night like once or twice a month. here today's my nighttime anger baby. pls handle gently. fragile. this side up

User ny4n__Xx's blogpost on "So You're Now a Catgirl And Can't Turn Back" turned out to be a dead end. So did the plethora of results that came up when she tried "help me the whites of my eyes are green now", "a mask is glued to my eyelids", "i am an irl catgirl", "what to do when a magical being gives u a catsuit", "are magic tails actually part of your body now", "how to get rid of cat ears", "how to get rid of magic cat ears", "how to get rid of magic cat ears attached to a HUMAN", and "how long did it take hermione granger's cat features to go away" in the search bar. The sites she came across ranged from unhelpful to alarming, with a few straddling the surprisingly thin line. She was a mix of disappointed and slightly surprised that the internet did not hold the key to her problem. If it could turn up videos of Elon Musk juxtaposed with anime catgirls with enormous badonkers, it really should have been able to answer her obscure but overall not too strange questions.

She face planted into her mattress before the edges of something digging into her cheekbones reminded her of the mask stuck to her fucking FACE. She had tried, to no avail, to yank it off. It tugged at the skin of her cheeks. She was stuck in an actual catsuit, complete with a mask and… baton. If her parents walked in on her right now, they'd probably think she was some smooth-brained cat burglar that had interpreted the title the wrong way, or at the very least was way too into dramatics.

Why _hadn't that little cat monster found it important to tell her how to undo her mistakes? Was she going to have to resign herself to a life of solitude and living in back alleys and meowing at strangers and getting stuck in trees? Was she going to forget how to swim? What did cats even do? Drink warm milk? Catch mice?_ Marinette shuddered at the idea. _Oh, god. Was she going to get named Whiskers? Or... god, was she going to have to go by fucking Coco???_

What would Alya say? Calm down, review what you know, consider your options.

Ok, calm down. Marinette hit shuffle on the Despicable Me soundtrack. “Minion Mambo” started playing. The first step was done.

Next, review what happened. One, she found a weird box. Two, she put on the silver ring that was inside the box (it was black now, though?). Three, a tiny black levitating cat shouted about anime for a while and said she’d be cooler as a blonde. She disagreed. Four, she said “Plagg, claws out” like it had told her to. Five, she was in a catsuit and was not waking up from whatever hellscape this was.

Maybe she needed to revisit step one.

She took a deep breath. What were her options? She could stay here and hope it disappeared. Maybe she could do some crying, too. That sounded depressing as hell and would definitely involve an awkward family conversation, but at least it would be somewhat reliable. Her parents were very open! But then again, it had taken Hermione weeks to return to normal, though it wasn’t exactly the same thing.

Or wake up. She could just wake up. Marinette pinched herself, and when that didn’t work, she slapped herself.

So waking up wasn’t an option.

She could also try changing out of the skintight suit, but the thought of peeling herself out of a leather oneside? She’d rather wait. Plus, the mask would be a pain. That left her only one option: figure out how to magic away the suit. How had it appeared in the first place? Magic… magic words? She had used magic words!

“Plagg,” she tried, unsteadily, “hands out.” Nothing happened. “Fingers out. Skin out? Human out. Nails out. Fingernails out. Plagg, make me human. Plagg, unsuit me.” Marinette felt her voice start wobbling, but it was beyond her control. “Clothes out. Clothes appear. Open sesame?” She sounded desperate with a hint of hysteria. “Plagg, I will kick your tiny ass! Please!”

She was too tired for this shit. She curled up in bed. What did cats count to fall asleep?

———

Once he had gotten over his initial shock, he had to admit that his ass looked great in the suit. If only bright red spotted skin-tight latex one pieces were acceptable streetwear. Perhaps it didn’t matter. He could always relish in knowing that becoming a social pariah would mess up his modeling career. If he made a big enough fool of himself, maybe he could even manage to get disowned.

The thought of the pink bug’s disappearance flitted through his mind before being figuratively bulldozed out of the way by the realization that his suit had a built in yoyo. He had always wanted one of these! He could learn some cool tricks to show his friends at school. He smiled, imagining his next post-concert interview going a little something like:

Interviewer: How do you feel about your musical journey?  
Him: It’s been good so far! In fact, I’ve been learning a few new instruments lately. I’m looking into the cello. I can’t share the details, but I’m just about spinning with excitement.

At which point he’d whip out his fancy new yoyo and wow the interviewer. The headline would read “Teen Model Adrien Agreste: Yo Yo Ma or YoYo Master?”

Clever. Puns were a foolproof way of getting people to like you. Nino loved his puns. (Chloe didn’t, but that was ok. Chloe didn’t like a lot of things. Homework. Leather. Ugly people.)

So it was decided. He’d take his fancy new yoyo and beautiful suit-clad ass out for a joyride. He walked straight past his door and made a beeline for the window. If it was a superhero suit, he could at least fly, right?

Wrong. As he hurtled towards the ground, he briefly wondered if the suit would protect him from harm and he would simply bounce off the concrete. As the unscheduled meeting between his face and the calla lilies seemed more immediate than ever, it became clear he’d have to take action. Last words escaped him. It seemed as good a time as any for his final move: he threw his yoyo, closed his eyes, thought about Yachi, who he would very much like to be his sister, and braced for impact.

He was still tensed up with his eyes shut tight when he realized that Madam Impact was rather late. In fact, Impact may have stood him up.

Bewildered, he looked around. His yoyo was wrapped around a lamppost in the distance that was approaching him rather quickly. Oh. Splat via lamppost seemed as fine a way to go as Splat via flower garden.

Wait. Didn’t that mean his final move wouldn’t be messing around with his cool new yoyo? He closed his eyes, chucked his yoyo into… well, he couldn’t see, so he wasn’t sure, and prepared for his rescheduled meeting with Impact and Splat.

They didn’t come.

He looked up. His yoyo was wrapped around a pipe on the top of a building very far off. Huh. Cool. So _that’s_ his final destination. Damn. What about the yoyo?

He closed his eyes, tossed the yoyo, and hoped for the best. And then he did that fifty more times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO THAT WAS A DUMPSTER FIRE! i am fully aware! not to mention i actually searched up "i am an irl catgirl" for Research Purposes and on a completely unrelated note i am never researching anything for a fic ever again.  
> this chapter was also meant to be longer but im tired and i just wanted to be able to update. have a good day <3


	3. fire burning on the dance floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why doesn’t this shit come with a manual?”
> 
> “Emmanuel?”
> 
> “Like an instruction guide?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i laugh at my own jokes. very lame. very unfortunate.

Marinette’s phone rang. If it was anyone but Alya, her phone was going over the balcony.

It was Alya.

“Hello?”

“Babe! Did you see the news?”

“Huh?”

“There’s some crazy guy zipping all around the city via yoyo. He has a mask on, and get this, he’s wearing a skintight red suit with polka dots. It’s like some kind of ladybug costume, I guess? Probably a character? Girl, talk about a failed cosplay. The outfit is ugly as hell.”

“Did you say skintight suit? And mask?”

“Huh? Yeah, he’s a zigzagging travesty.”

Marinette looked out her window, expecting to see said suited man flying all across the rooftops. Unfortunately, she didn’t. Or maybe… there was a red speck in the distance darting back and forth.

“Um, Alya? I think I see him.”

“Oh my gosh, take a few pictures and send them to me! No, wait, take a video! FaceTime me!”

Marinette looked at the red figure, getting gradually larger. She looked down at her outfit. She looked back up. “I don’t know if FaceTime is the best idea; I’ll get a better quality video if I use my camera.”

“Good point! I’ll go then, but send me updates! It’ll be perfect for my blog.”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best!” She hung up and climbed to her balcony. Her best was not going to be very good. She was going to try to talk with the man careening across her neighbors’ roof towards her. He seemed to be blond. The little cat devil would approve.

“Hello?” Marinette called out. The man crashed into the plant on her balcony and stayed there. “Oh, shit!”

\------

Adrien registered a faint voice. It was coming from somewhere above him. He cracked open one eye.

“Oh, thank god, you’re awake!” A girl wearing a black suit and mask leaned over him in a room he didn’t seem to recognize. There was only one possible conclusion. He was getting kidnapped by an incredibly good looking furry.

“Wha–”

“You fell right onto my balcony! You’re apparently all over the news! You look ridiculous! You passed out and I carried you down into my room, so people wouldn’t see you.”

“Wait, back up.”

“You’re all over the news?”

“No, a little less.”

“You look ridiculous?”

“Yeah, that! No, I don’t! I look amazing!” Adrien responded indignantly. He was butthurt in ways beyond physical. His magnificent ass ached from what was apparently a crash (A/N: landing on you).

The girl failed to hide a cringe. “Yes, of course you do! On another note, did you hit your head when you landed on my house?”

He glared at her. “That is besides the point.”

As it turned out, his cat-napper had a very cute laugh.

\------

She eyed the man in her bedroom. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but perhaps dragging an unconscious masked man previously seen flying seemingly aimlessly across the rooftops of Paris in a hideous suit had not been in her best interests. Perhaps.

He also made terrible jokes. If she had to hear how he was “pawsitively confused” or something about her “meowvelous” room decor one more time she was going to put her head through the wall.

“Enough with the goddamn cat puns!”

“You’re the one in the cat costume.”

“At least you can tell I’m a cat. What are you supposed to be?”

“Ladybug.”

“Uh huh.”

“Is it bugging you?”

“Stop it!”

“Seriously! That’s what the magic pink flying thing said.” He’d probably intended it to come off as a joke, but the situation was just a little bit too familiar to Marinette.

“Magic pink flying thing?”

“Oh, no,” whined the bug-man. “I think I hit my head too hard like you said. I am absolutely full of shit.”

She stared at him.

“Ahhh, my head hurts so bad.” He draped himself across her bed. “It throbs.” He closed his eyes. “My whole body… pain. Endless pain.” He rolled onto her floor. “Ahhhh! It hurts so much worse on the floor!”

“Is this a joke to you?”

“Um… yes?” He paused his charade mid-roll to stare up at her. “...no?”

She crossed her arms.

“Maybe?”

Marinette was exhausted. Even by her standards, it had been a very long day. “Can you just tell me about the pink thing?”

“Ah… yeah, I forget. I actually might’ve hit my head too hard.”

“Do your best to remember.”

The blond bug boy looked up at her ceiling in thought. “I found a little box in my bag.” Marinette fought to keep her expression neutral. “And I found a pair of earrings inside of it. And I was hoping I’d look hella cool, but instead I look doubly hella cool, because it came with a suit and a yoyo. And a magic thing. Well, the magic thing came before the suit. And she gave me some phrase to say to take the suit on and off.”

“Do you remember the phrase to take it off?”

“Um… no. Why do you ask?”

“I had the same experience but with a little black float-y thing, but it didn’t tell me anything about taking the suit off. Why doesn’t this shit come with a manual?”

“Emmanuel?”

“Like an instruction guide?”

“Oh, my bad, I thought you meant my friend’s friend’s cousin.”

Marinette stared at him. “No. I did not mean your friend’s friend’s cousin. Just help me get out of this damn suit.”

“I don’t know how!”

“Can you really not remember?”

“Yeah, I forgot.”

“Maybe something can jog your memory? What were you doing before you put on the suit?”

“Chemistry homework.”

“Thank god, I’m stuck on mine.”

\-------

The cat-girl’s homework was eerily similar to his. It was almost like they were in the same class or something. Probably something.

It was really kind of funny. As he helped her, she got flustered easily doing problems he had considered effortless and cussed even more than what seemed to be her usual when she got stuck. So maybe she was wearing a mask and had cat ears stuck to her head. She was really very cute.

“So… these two match up like this?”

“Yeah, that’s right! Great job!” He turned to smile at her. She was still focused on the problem with her nose scrunched up a little bit. Yeah. She was really cute.

She looked up at him suddenly. Flustered, he looked around hurriedly. He hoped that if his eyes flickered around enough she’d believe he had only glanced at her in a passing moment as he was gazing at her room. In a non-creepy way. He was starting to get a headache.

“I just realized!” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Did you have a keyword or catchphrase to say to transform? I totally should’ve asked earlier.”

“I said, ‘Tikki, spots on!’ and then-” He remembered his funky little dance and decided not to elaborate. “- uh, then boom! Suit.”

“Okay, I had something similar. I was supposed to say, ‘Plagg, claws out’.”

Adrien couldn’t help cooing. “Aww, that’s so cute.” She looked at him. “Like claws? Like a cat? Because you’re a c– Um… not cute at all? Or very cute? Am– What do you want me to say?” He glanced down at her. The cheeks under her mask were very, very red. “This must be so embarrassing for you! I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, no, it’s okay!” He could practically feel the heat from her blush coming off her in waves. Gosh, why was he such an embarrassment! “I totally get it! You must like cats. Not that you must like me or anything because I’m a cat. Do bugs even like cats? Maybe cats eat bugs. I wouldn’t know because I don’t have any pets. Or have had any. My parents own a bakery, so I don’t even think it’d be legal! Oh my god, am I legally allowed to be here right now?”

“I’m sure you are! It’s not like you’re actually a cat.”

“You’re right!” She put her hands on her hips. Power pose. “What was I saying earlier?”

“Claws out.”

“You’re amazing! I mean, that’s amazing! Ah, I meant to say that’s right! Yeah. Uh huh.” She put her head in her hands.

“I think the ending phrase was something opposite.”

“I already tried a bunch of variations, though! Hands out, skin out, et cetera.”

“Maybe you just haven’t tried the right one! Let me think.” He paused. “Oh, this is embarrassing. I think mine was ‘Tikki, spots off’. Oh, shit–” And there went his fun little transformation sequence. At least he had his favorite black shirt back. He hadn’t washed it in ages, but hey, when you wear the same shirt every single day, what’s a guy to do?

Adrien cheered. “I’m me again!”

The cat-girl stared at him. “You’re Adrien Agreste?”

“Oh. Yeah. Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might just end up adding more chapters because i Perhaps have a tendency to derail every single plot point i come up with with excessive dialogue


End file.
